FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

>It's not yet light out when you reach the forest.

>You passed her parents' farm four hours ago -- it was dark then too.

>Passing them by wasn't a completely conscious decision on your part. You'd debated it during the journey up to that point, still undecided when you came near their exit.

>Life made the decision for you; you didn't realize until you were at the next exit, some 10 miles out, that you had missed them.

>You let out a groan, the fabric on the steering wheel creaking as you squeeze it again.

>And you thought you were fucked-up back then...

>You're tired, your legs hurt, your eyes are dry and gritty, and the headache you've been nursing since hour three has only grown more skull-splitting in intensity.

>As a rule, you only ate when the truck did -- which meant you had an annoyingly high number of opportunities.

>Early on, when the first signs of fatigue were showing, you had the brilliant idea to get some of that over-the-counter, legally distinct crack to keep your energy up.

>Maybe that's why your blood feels like syrup, even if the waking effects have worn off already.

>Tuning the radio was keeping you busy, but there's no signal here in the woods.

>That's okay: you're no longer on the road. The old logging trail you're on is challenging enough as is, even with the Hilux's power. The last thing you want to do is get stuck or lost.

>Maybe 'lost' isn't the right word.

>You want to avoid driving off into the woods, and the trail looks damn close to the forest floor in more than a few places.

>It's monotonous.

>You wonder if you've gone down the wrong trail a few times, but you know this was the right one.

>Talia took you out here. Once, back when you visited her folks.

>A few of them had come along as well. Her two brothers.

>You weren't sure if it was because they actually wanted to, or if their Pa wanted to keep an eye on you and his daughter -- even if he knew the two of you weren't actually dating.

>It was just a day trip, no camping in the woods. Again, you don't know if it was her parents being overprotective, or her not wanting to reveal too much of her home away from home.

>You know that Atlas and Apollo didn't know too much about the place, at least.

>She wanted it to be hers, you could tell. That's why you know she's here.

>That's why you drove for eight hours straight.

>She's got to be.

>Your first reaction upon seeing tail-lights is to worry that you're seeing things. When you brake, though, and flash the brights, the rear end of the truck comes into view.

>It's a big, red Ford 350, from some early-century year.

>Talia's.

>The ground doesn't feel right beneath you when you jump from the Hilux. Your legs are pins and needles, your joints are tight. You vaguely recognize that there's light to the east as you hobble up, a hint of orange reaching from between the trees.

>There's a Shoktan range sticker in the back window: Talia's truck, alright. You root through the bed, jimmying the tonneau cover lock -- it doesn't actually work, but the presence alone deters most people from bothering.

>You attempt to grunt, finding it hard to use your own voice. The amount of food and other supplies tells you she's planning on staying a while.

>And yet, the actual camp materials are missing. No tent, no sleeping bag.

>Given the fact she hasn't prodded the back of your head with a gun barrel, you figure she's not sleeping in the cab. Must be somewhere nearby.

>The woods seem peaceful as you walk back; the bellow of your horn shatters that right quick.

>Kicking the truck back into gear, you stick your head out the window and begin yelling the she-wolf's name, driving slow past her truck.

>There's no real trail anymore, but that's not what you're concerned about.

>You make it a good hundred yards before you realize this is a stupid idea; there's no way you can hear Talia over the engine, so there's no point in yelling.

>You also may have just woken someone else -- or some_thing_ else -- up.

>Cursing, you roll up the windows and park the car, pulling the 1901 from beside you and loading it up again.

>You've got just enough presence of mind to be deliberate, knowing that you probably shouldn't be doing any of this in the state you're in.

>You shouldn't be out here blundering about in the woods, tens of miles from civilization, when you've got a state trial in two days. You shouldn't be loading up this gun, even if you weren't sleep-deprived and somewhat hungry.

>And you probably shouldn't be chasing after some wolf-girl because she kissed you a day ago.

>As you slide the last shell into the chamber, you manage a laugh; all those songs and stories about love weren't too far off, it seems.

>Letting down the hammer is more nerve-wracking than usual, the process already difficult with how deep in the receiver the piece is set. Being kept awake by will alone helps none.

>You resume when it's set, sticking your head out the window. Half to see if you'll be able to hear Talia, and half to guide the Hilux through the woods.

>You lay into the horn every now and then, though the roar of the engine as you coax it through small dips and over felled trees is just as loud.

>The faint light in the east has grown stronger by the time you manage to get the old girl stuck. Despite all your begging and pleading, the Hilux can't free itself from the half-dried creek bed you managed to park her in.

>"I'm sorry," you tell your ancient, reliable steed, letting her engine rest. You're more mad at yourself than the truck; getting it stuck in the middle of the woods will make any return journey a pain in the ass.

>First, though, you need to find Talia.

>You sling the 1901 over your shoulder, and root through the mess that is the truckbed.

>Earlier, partway through the drive up, you realized your chase after Talia might take longer than you thought. The truck-stop survival gear you picked up won't hold up long, but it'll have to be enough.

>You take a few choice pieces that Talia left behind as well, shoving it all haphazardly into a backpack.

>The hood of the Toyota is still warm when you pat it lovingly, unslinging the 1901. Holding it will keep you awake. The metal and wood will keep you centered.

>It has to.

>Hiking through the woods soon proves just as difficult as driving through it; five minutes in, and you've already almost fallen twice.

>You're not sure how far you've made it when your head, once just pounding, now begins to spin.

>Guzzling the water bottle you brought doesn't help, and crouching down to retrieve it from your pack certainly didn't either.

>Eventually, you fall, tripping up onto the top of a small hill. As you lay there, face in the earthy forest floor, you find yourself comfortable.

>The carpet of dead leaves is cool against your skin, the weight of your pack somehow comforting. Even the position, as uncomfortable as it should be, seems suited for rest.

>You allow yourself five seconds -- or maybe five minutes? -- to catch your breath before you pull yourself up.

>You make it to a nearby tree, sitting against it. You reach for your water, forgetting that you emptied it earlier.

>You curse, dropping it to the side.

>Just another five minutes to rest -- you don't know how long you've been going, but you know it's long enough that a rest to catch your breath couldn't hurt.

>The morning light filters through the trees, and you only realize then how beautiful it all is.

>Vibrant greens fill your vision, from the canopy to the short saplings and undergrowth. Mosses and lichen of similar shades dot the trunks around you, the occasional birch a beautiful contrast.

>There are birds chirping, you realize.

>You chuckle to yourself, settling into your seat -- it really feels like one of those nature documentary things.

>Hopefully this one doesn't end up with the foolhardy explorer getting lost or dying.

>You can feel your mind begin to drift off as you do, the scene around you going through that one last intensification before completely fading out.

>You know you're drifting when you see her approach, your she-wolf in plaid.

>You smile, closing your eyes.

>You'll wake up soon.

>When you do, it's slow. You're reluctant.

>That confuses you in your half-awake state, as you consider where you'd sat down, what you'd been doing.

>The canopy above you now is a darker shade of green, and the tree you were resting your head against is much, much softer.

>And you're... laying down?

>There's a new sensation on your hair, like a faint breeze. Soon, you realize it's a set of rough pawpads.

>You hear a hum, your new pillow shifting slightly.

>"Talia?"

>You shift as well, finding your face pressed in a familiar flannel.

>She really does smell like the forest.

>The she-wolf pulls away from you with an exasperated groan, letting you scramble to your hands and knees.

>"The fuck are you doing here, dumbass?"

>The first thing you notice is that her bandage is gone. The next is that the red and black flannel is her base layer now, a camo jacket over it.

>"You were dry as a fucking mummy when I found you! You seriously only bring one bottle of water?"

>It's real anger in her voice, on her face as she sits there in the tent with you.

>But you know the truth.

>You hope you do, at least.

>That her anger comes from a different emotion.

>You pull yourself into a crouch as she berates you for getting the Hilux stuck after laying into its horn.

>"...and -- Anon, what the fuck are you --?!"

>You spring at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. The she-wolf falls over, despite being significantly larger. She rolls so the two of you are on your sides; she's tense when she comes to rest, her chest still against yours.

>Her eyes are wide when you pull your face from her shoulder, shifting your hands further up her mane.

>"Anon --" she starts, but stops when you press your lips to hers, digging your fingers into her fur.

>There's a pause between the two of you then, just sitting like that, staring at each other, connected.

>You're terrified the whole time.

>But then Talia's claws dig into the back of your head, and it's like you're back on her couch again. Like that makeout-session never stopped.

>Her muzzle is cocked sideways, her velvety tongue coating your mouth as her teeth dig into your cheeks.

>Her eyes are closed again; this time, you close yours too.

>You glide your hands along her profile, her fur silky. Despite the way her tongue pokes and prods at yours, and the way she clamps her teeth tighter with a slight growl, she leans into your touch happily.

>Her pawpads scrape over your face while your hands fumble at her flannel; she holds your head in place when she draws back just enough for a quick gasp of air, a quiet 'fuck' escaping her lips before they crash right back into yours.

>You stiffen when she grabs your ass, her claws digging in. The she-wolf uses that window, managing to nip your tongue and pull it between her teeth, making you groan even more against her as she begins to suck.

>Soon, the heat between your groins isn't just from mutual arousal. She's lifted a leg over you, in addition to grinding you against her with that hand on your ass; you're only too happy to help.

>The she-wolf finally pulls away for good when you manage to free her breasts, arching back with a moan as you watch them spill free.

>Of course she'd go commando.

>"Anon," she huffs; she arcs back down, pressing her forehead to yours.

>"Anon... god damn it, Anon..."

>You move your hands to her head as she pants, her paws shifting any way they can to hold you close.

>"I... I love you, Talia," you pant.

>You pause, the two of you staring at each other again before you peck her snout.

>"Fuck, I've wanted to say that for so long..."

>She hums, a hand going to your cheek.

>"You sure it wasn't that -- you wanted to grab my tits?"

>"Fuck off," you laugh. "You -- you started it!"

>"No," she says, pulling back to peck you on the nose before dipping her head over your shoulder.

>"You did. And... Christ, I'm glad you did."

>You take a breath, your face in her mane; even if it's more or less like the forest around you, her scent is comforting. Or maybe that's her arms around you tight, or the fact that you can hold her for the first time without fear, or shame.

>"You're the one that started getting grabby," you say.

>She does so again, pulling you by the hair to look up at her.

>"You started it by grabbing my a--"

>She's the one to shut you up with her lips this time, delving deep from the start once more.

>You nuzzle into it, into her, melting only when you feel her long, canine tongue tickling at the back of your throat. Only when you go slack does she pull back, dragging that soft tongue the whole way until it comes free with a slight 'pop.'

>"Shut up," she growls, before squeezing you into a hug even more bone-crushing than the first. Then, after a few breaths, she sighs.

>"I wanted to do that for a while, too..."

>You allow yourself a few more moments of peace, your face pressed in her mane, before you let reality seep in.

>"What the hell are you doing out here?"

>Talia grunts.

>"I could ask you the same thing, dumbass."

>"Chasing after your fluffy ass before we both make a big mistake!"

>That gets her to let you go, her grunt being closer to a growl this time as she sits up.

>"Both of us?" she snorts. "You're the one that showed up half-dead with a single bottle of water, plowing your way through the--"

>"Quit lying, Talia!"

>She stops, her fur puffing a little.

>"Just... it's okay. We don't have to hide it anymore, we don't have to lie to each other."

>The way she looks away from you says she doesn't quite believe it.

>You groan softly to yourself; it really is true what they say about love.

>"What were you doing?"

>"Going to the woods," she answers, still not looking back. "I sent you the text."

>"And when the trial was meant to happen, two days from now?"

>Talia whines softly, then looks at you. Only now do you notice that her nose is still a little swollen.

>"I wasn't -- I'm not going. I --"

>She pauses, choosing her words; she seems to struggle to keep her voice even.

>"It doesn't matter how much you love me, Anon. You're not convincing me to go back. This... this is what I wanted to do. What I've always wanted to do. And -- and I know that I can do it."

>You sigh. Not for her, but for yourself.

>You're really about to do this, aren't you?

>"I'm not mad about that, Talia. I'm mad that you'd do it without me."

>Her brow raises a little in surprise, but soon it's back down with suspicion.

>"You're not all that mushy -- and I'm not that dumb. Why'd you show up with half my gear if you were serious?"

>"I -- well, I kind of figured things out late last night..."

>Talia's ears perk up, but she doesn't say anything.

>"I didn't exactly have time to prepare. I started driving at like...9, I think? I mean, I picked up a few things along the way, but --"

>"You drove eight hours straight here?"

>"Well... yeah..."

>The she-wolf chuckles as you begin to blush slightly.

>"And I'm the dumb one without a plan."

>"You still are."

>She snorts.

>"Quit it, Anon, you're not convincing me. I'm --"

>"You're running off inna woods, I get it! But what are you going to do?"

>You pause as you gesture around.

>"You can live out here, I get that, but don't you think they'll come looking? Don't you think they'll send someone after us, that Pat might send someone after us?"

>"I did, actually," the she-wolf says. "I've got a plan for it."

>"Shooting your way out is not a plan!"

>"You were the one bumbling about with a lever gun."

>"I can smell the cosmoline, Talia, I know you've got your Sks here. And --"

>You sniff the air for a moment: carbon.

>"--and a .22."

>Talia tries not to look surprised, but can't stifle the quiet 'damn...'

>"That ain't it, anyway," she says, looking away again.

>"Then what is?"

>"Easy," she says.

>"Cross into NSE."

>You were ready with a scathing retort, but that stops you in your tracks; you weren't expecting that.

>You try to recall your geography, and figure out how far out the border is. It's not terribly far -- if you were in a car.

>The she-wolf could easily make the hike, and for all you know, she has. But you're doubtful that it'd solve your problems.

>"It's still State, Talia. How is crossing that line going to help?"

>"It's still State, yeah, but there's different cops," she says, turning back to you. "The ones from WCS have no authority there, and the NSE ones will be sure to remind them of that."

>She... does have a point. The she-wolf shifts to a low crouch, beginning to clean up the tent.

>"Well, what happens when they get tipped off? Pat and whoever else she's got in the local State are going to send them tips and resources."

>"You ever look at a map of up there, Anon? There's a reason it's a big, fat, arbitrary square. There's no one up there, they've got a population density of like 1 per 20 square miles."

>She zips up a bag with finality, looking at you over her shoulder.

>"No one up there is going to care."

>"...What about -- "

>"There's a reason I left the truck like it is," she interrupts. "I'm hiking -- won't have to deal with any processing booths, and there's enough evidence to make me getting lost in the woods plausible."

>"...I was going to ask how you were planning on dealing with winter."

>She turns to you with a quizzical look, and points to her bare bust with a slight bounce.

>"Fur."

>"Will you put those away?"

>The she-wolf grins fully now, but turns away from you, continuing her packing.

>"I don't know, figured you'd want to suck on 'em at least once before I left."

>You grunt before getting up yourself, finding your cheap backpack.

>"That'd be nice," you admit, "but we'll have plenty of time to do it when we get there."

>Talia pauses, turning to you slowly.

>"You're not --"

>"Like hell I'm not! If I can't convince you to come back -- and I know I can't -- then I'm going with!"

>Her ears flatten slightly as she looks down at you.

>"This isn't going to be like that one weekend trip, Anon. We're going to be living in the field, with no option to just back out. Not on a campsite, not on hiking trails, but in the middle of nowhere."

>Her gaze is hard; you match it.

>"You really going to leave your little museum collection to be homeless and on the run?"

>You reach up, threading your fingers into the fur that frames her face.

>"Yes."

>You press your lips to hers once more, pulling back before she can grab your head to lock you there.

>"When I said I loved you earlier, I meant it."

>She runs her claws through your hair, her eyes darting between yours until she breaks away with a huff.

>"Then let's get going, dumbass," she half-growls. "I lost most of the morning making sure you weren't dead."

>You gather your pack and exit the tent, and attempt to start helping her break it down. A flash of red and gray tells you she never did close that flannel.

>...damn, that fur must be thick...

>"Even if I'm going with," you say, "I still wouldn't mind giving them a suck before we leave."

>That wipes away the she-wolf's RBF for a moment; she gives you a confused look before she realizes her awoobies are hanging free.

>"Oh, don't you worry," she chuckles, pausing to cover back up, "you'll be doing a whole lot more than that tonight..."

>After a few more silent seconds of breaking down the tent -- mainly watching her do it and staying out of the way -- you ask "...really?"

>With a final pull from Talia, the tent collapses into a pile of fabric, rods, and string. When you look up, the she-wolf is already pressed up against you, her eyes unfamiliar as she looks down at you.

>It's unhidden, unabashed, predatory lust.

>You squeak before you even recognize that she's cupped your groin, the pressure firm as her claws dig in to the sensitive skin around your package.

>"Oh, yes," she breathes, hot on your face.

>She squeezes, and you grab her arms desperately; she's stooped down to reach you and you're up on your toes, putting her face just above yours, plastered with half-lid eyes and a devious smile. You whimper as she brushes a thumb on your cheek before giving you a long, slow lick across the face. Her muzzle scrapes along the side of your face as she brings her lips to your ear.

>"There's many other things I've been wanting to do to you for a long, long time..."

>She licks her lips; you feel yourself thrust into her grip, and she gives a low chuckle.

>"The hardest part will be making sure you can still walk."

>You gasp when she lets you go with a slight shove, and you almost fall on your ass.

>"Now, pack up the tent," the she-wolf says, walking off with your bag. "I'm going to the trucks to scrape a bag together for you.

>"I -- I moved all your shit to mine!" you manage, staring at her as she moves. She looks back, giving you another devious grin as her tail wags slightly.

>"Good boy."

>You sit there, staring at her until she's melded back into the forest.

>"Fucking hell..." you mutter to yourself. "Today is going to hurt, isn't it?"

>Some 10 hours later, you're sorry to say that you were right.

>You're not terribly out of shape, but hiking for that long straight certainly pushed you to your limit.

>Talia kept a solid pace, though with her long legs, that wasn't surprising. The fact that she seemed impervious to any of the rocks, deadfall, or tree roots that constantly tripped you up was.

>Parts of it were still fun, even later in the day. Crossing the small rivers and streams, climbing up slopes, spotting the occasional deer or squirrel -- those things made you forget the stakes, if only for a moment.

>But now, with sore legs, an aching back, and some chaffing in all the worst places, those stakes are all that's on your mind.

>That and the fact jeans were a terrible fucking idea. Though it's not like you prepared.

>Talia tasked you with figuring out how far the two of you had made it while she set up the shelter, the two of you working by lantern-light.

>Assuming you're reading the map correctly, the two of you covered 20 miles.

>It's 60 more to the nearest part of the NSE border, assuming there's no ravines or other impasses.

>That's three days of travel at this same pace; one more than you have.

>You groan, stretching your legs to little avail. If anything, you'll be going slower.

>"So?"

>Talia stands beside the completed tent, looking down at you.

>"Well, we... we made it 20 miles."

>The she-wolf grunts softly, trying to hide her expression of concern. She sits down beside you, checking your work; another grunt tells you you were right enough.

>"Come on," she says, pulling herself up. "We're starting early tomorrow. We'll need rest."

>You do your best to stifle the winces as you stand, but you still walk over to the tent like a cowboy. Talia secures the flap behind you, letting you finally unsling your pack. Sitting down is a careful process, but you're relieved to find the ground is relatively soft.

>You pull a rag from your bag, and shine the lantern across the surface of your 1901, rubbing at the occasional spot of mud or dirt. The hammer is still down, still safe enough that you're not going to worry about it.

>When you look up, you see that Talia has stripped; you get a facefull of her gray behind as she pumps up a sleeping mat, her clothes stuffed into its cover appearing to be her pillow.

>You look over her curves, the interplay of brown, black, and white in her fur. She's beautiful, for sure, but the moment still doesn't feel real. You don't feel like you thought you would, like you did in all the daydreaming you've done over the past year or so.

>Then again, you didn't exactly imagine that you'd be so worn down when it happened.

>The groan you let out is unrestrained, lightened a little by the relief you feel after kicking off your boots, then your pants. When you finish with a huff, you look up to see Talia staring at you with concern.

>"I-it's nothing," you say. "Just -- just eager to get to the main event, is all."

>"Uh -- huh..."

>She crawls over to you, pulling off your undergarments as you try not to hiss.

>"I thought you said we weren't lying to each other anymore."

>You grasp for straws as the she-wolf flings your boxers with your other discarded clothes, surveying the red marks on your inner thighs.

>"You didn't have to get naked, you know," she says, crawling back to the mat and patting the spot next to her as she lies on her side.

>"How else are you gonna do all those things?" you ask: one stride into your crawl you wince and adjust, the air cool on your irritated skin.

>She snorts, snaking an arm behind your head when you finally make it, pulling you down to face her.

>"You're a horny little bastard, ain'tcha?" she coos.

>She kisses your forehead; it's restrained, gentle. Her paws are too, gliding over you slowly, softly, pausing when you twitch.

>"You're the one that said we'd fuck until I couldn't walk..." you mutter, lost in her fur as you stroke it, all of it.

>Suddenly it's all around you, your face stuffed in the hollow between her breasts.

>"Shut up," the she-wolf whispers, kneading at your hair.

>"We can do some of the more... gentle things I've been waiting to do. Like this."

>She hums, and you reply in kind.

>You nuzzle into her softness, into her warmth. You squeeze her tight, your fingers digging in with a soft groan as you try to ingrain her scent into you.

>"...The only reason I got naked is because it's warm, by the way."

>You snort, your 'yeah right" unrecognizable when it emerges from her fluffy bust. The she-wolf gets the gist, of course.

>"Really. But you probably shouldn't have -- even if it's summer, that soft, bare humie skin of yours is gonna let all the heat out."

>You grunt, feeling her pull you closer.

>"Now I have to hold you like this all night... you really are a burden, you know that, dumbass?"

>She giggles at the muffled 'fuck off' that bubbles up from her breasts. After a little more cooing, though, she falls quiet, letting you bask in her glory.

>Her fur is so soft, more than you imagined.

>The flesh beyond that is too, squishing against you as her chest rises and falls, her breasts squeezing around your head in her embrace.

>Her scent is comforting, as are her hands on your body, and the way she feels in your arms.

>Slowly, you begin to feel the aches and itches begin to fade, the world around you limited to the smell of her, the feel of her, and the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing.

>"...You can breathe in there, right?"

>Her voice is warm, her tone hinting that she really is worried.

>You nod into her chest with a muffled groan, shifting to press more completely against her. She coos in response, rough pawpads scritching against you, careful to avoid the tender spots.

>"Good," is all you catch before you pass out.

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